


Some Rules Are Made to Be Broken

by Persiflager



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-22
Updated: 2013-05-22
Packaged: 2017-12-12 15:29:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/813125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflager/pseuds/Persiflager
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is fifteen and Greg is not a good man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Rules Are Made to Be Broken

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/21697.html?thread=126309057#t126309057) on the kink meme.

Thirty-one pairs of eyes watch the clock on the classroom wall as it ticks inexorably towards three o’clock. There’s over a month left to go til the end of school and it’s far too warm.

Finally, the bell rings.

“Alright you lot, off you go,” says Greg from behind his desk as chaos erupts in front of him. “And I’ll have your essays on Monday.” His year 8 History class stream out, dropping their tests on his desk as they pass. He counts them, packs them away in his bag, and heads to the car park.

A couple of the girls from his sixth-form class wave and giggle at him as he crosses the playground. He waves back politely. He used to find it embarrassing when pupils had a crush on him, but he’s pretty inured to it now.

“Bloody hell,” says Seb Wilkes, maths teacher and self-appointed best mate, as he comes up behind Greg. “Are those skirts or belts?” 

“They’re children,” says Greg firmly. They might be the only two male teachers under thirty at the school, but he hates thinking they’ve got anything in common.

“Right,” says Seb unconvincingly, still staring. “You’re a stronger man than I am.”

Greg winces because he’s really, _really_ not.

“Anyway, have a good weekend. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Seb winks at Greg and peels off towards his unnecessarily flash car.

Greg sort of feels sorry for Seb, when he’s not busy wanting to punch him. He used to work in the City doing something clever with money, and claims that he found it all too shallow and wanted to devote his life to something more meaningful. The rumour is that he got caught fiddling the books and only escaped prison by the skin of his teeth.

Anyway, now Seb’s teaching at one of Watford’s shittier comprehensives and his social life consists of trying to drag a newly divorced history teacher out on the pull, so he’s probably suffered enough.

Greg opens the front door of his car and stands there while the hot air seeps out. He’s not sure if he’s trying to delay the disappointment when John doesn’t show up, or give his conscience time to kick in in case John does.

He doesn’t know if he wants John to be there.

(That’s a lie – he very badly wants John to be there.) 

He drives slowly home. It’s been a week since John last came round and he hasn’t got any reason to expect that he’ll come round tonight. It’s highly unlikely that Greg will pull into his drive and see John’s battered old bike chained to his fence – 

It’s there.

Greg takes a deep breath and lets himself into the house.

.....

Greg finds John leaning against the kitchen counter, drinking a can of Coke. His jacket is on the back of a chair and there’s a washed-up plate and bread-knife in the dish-rack, meaning that he’s already made himself a sandwich.

(John cleans up after himself partly out of habit, and partly to try and show Greg that he’s more mature than most fifteen-year-olds).

Not tall for his age any more, since everyone else overtook him, John’s still strong and supple. His light brown hair is getting shaggy – Greg makes a mental note to send him to the barber. His eyes light up when he sees Greg, and he licks his lovely lips.

Greg should say any of a number of things that he’s rehearsed. Instead he crosses the room, curls his hand around John’s neck, and kisses him.

John puts the can down and digs his fingers into Greg’s waist as he kisses him back, rough and clumsy. Greg steps closer, between John’s legs, and presses the heel of his hand against the obvious bulge in his school uniform trousers.

John groans. 

“How did they go?” 

“Fine, I think.” John’s voice still cracks a little when he’s distracted. 

“Good.”

Greg unbuttons John’s trousers with practiced ease. He slides his hand down into John’s underwear and wraps it around John’s warm cock even as John bucks and presses against Greg. He kisses John again, hard and unforgiving, and a few minutes later he’s got a teenager’s come all over his hand.

He disengages gently, wiping his hand on his shirt. “When do you have to be back?”

“I don’t,” says John, still gripping Greg’s waist.

“John-“

“I _don’t_ ,” he insists. “They’ve gone away and won’t be back til Sunday.”

Greg rests his forehead against John’s. “Come upstairs then,” he says.

And John does.

.....

Greg is not a good man. He knows this, and knows that he can’t trust himself to do the right thing, which is why he made the rules.

1\. ~~Don’t mix with students outside of school.~~

He blames the breaking of this one on his loneliness following the divorce. It had been nice having someone around the house, even just for half an hour of tutoring, and John was bright and funny and opened up in a way he didn’t at school. 

And when John opened up a little bit more, and it became apparent that ‘not technically abusive or negligent’ was the nicest thing Greg could say about John’s parents, then it seemed like the right thing to show him where the spare key was kept and say he was welcome to do his homework at Greg’s.

And, for a few months (while Greg pretended not to notice John’s pretty mouth and flat stomach and pert bottom and hungry eyes), it was.

2\. ~~Don’t touch students~~

This one was for his own protection as much as theirs, but it had only taken John’s hand on his knee to break it (oh, and _how_ he’d broken it).

3\. ~~Always use condoms~~

To be fair, this one was never intended to apply to students. 

(But because he still has some illusion of being a responsible adult, he tries to pass this rule onto John.

“I don’t want to have sex with anyone else,” John says into the pillow as he spread his legs wider.

“You will when you’re older.” Greg pulls all the way out and pushes back in again, enjoying the sight nearly as much as the noise John makes.

“I won’t.”

“ _John_.” Greg, exasperated, gives him a few hard thrusts. “Promise me. Remember – other people are bastards.”

“Except you.” John doesn’t trust anyone else, as far as Greg can tell, but he trusts Greg completely. It makes Greg’s heart ache and, because it shows how terribly misguided John’s judgement is, makes him worry about John’s future.

“Especially me. Promise or I won’t suck you off.” It’s an empty threat – Greg loves going down on John – but it works.

“Fine,” says John, reluctantly.

Greg makes it up to him later by teaching him about rimming.)

4\. Don’t get caught.

This one had been added after rules one and two were broken, and comes with an increasing number of associated rules: no dirty texts, no pictures saved on their phones, no incriminating emails. Greg never gives John a lift. Never on school grounds, not even if John finds Greg in an empty classroom after hours and is certain no-one else is around.

Don’t tell _anyone_.

(“I mean it,” he says, the second time he has John in his bed. 

Of course, he’d also meant to tell John that it couldn’t happen again.

John laughs, though it doesn’t sound like he finds it very funny. “Who would I tell?”)

5\. Don’t hurt John.

This is the golden rule, and he spends most of his waking hours worrying about it. 

Greg does what he can to tip the scales towards good (or at least ‘less bad’). He makes John eat his vegetables, patches up his post-fight scrapes, gives him what advice he can, and helps him revise for his GCSEs (not that testing a student on their German vocabulary while you’re balls-deep in them is standard practice, but it seems to work.)

It doesn’t do much to ease his conscience, but it helps Greg convince himself of the one belief he still clings to – that although he’s a weak man, if it became clear that he was doing irreparable harm, then he would stop.

Some days that lie is easier to believe than others.

.....

Greg fingers John for _ages_ , ignoring the insistent throb of his erection, until John’s wide open and dripping with lube. Greg rocks his way into John’s body with slow, careful strokes until he’s fully seated, then finally lets himself look at John’s face – flushed and adoring and _too much_.

Greg kisses him throughout, because John loves to be kissed more than almost anything else, and fucks him through one orgasm and into a second.

Afterwards, they lie there sticky and panting in the humid room, and John rests his head on Greg’s chest.

“Are you gay?” he asks.

Greg smiles at the ceiling – John has figured out that Greg is much more susceptible to personal questions after sex, and has started taking advantage of that fact.

“No. I was married, remember?”

“Some gay men marry women, to hide.”

“Yes, well I didn’t.”

“Are you bisexual, then?”

“If you like.”

John’s quiet for a minute. “Do you think I’m gay?”

“No – you keep trying to look down Sarah Sawyer’s top.” Greg wraps his arm round John and strokes his shoulder. He wishes he didn’t know why John cared, but the plain truth is that, as far as John’s schoolmates are concerned, being gay is the single worst thing any person can be.

John hums peacefully and traces a pattern on Greg’s chest. “It’s my birthday in a couple of weeks.”

“Is it now.” Greg knows that from John’s file, of course, but he likes it when John tells him things of his own accord. “What do you want?”

“Can I fuck you?”

“Can you fuck me? I’m sure you _can_. Whether or not you _may_ -“

John pokes him in the side.

“Ow! Fine, yes, you can fuck me if you want.”

“Do you like it?”

Greg shrugs. “I can take it or leave it.”

“I like it.” John sounds matter-of-fact, and it charms Greg completely.

“I _know_ ,” he says grinning. “But not everyone’s wired the same way.” 

John smiles against Greg’s chest.

“I’ll be sixteen,” he says eventually.

“Mm.” Greg doesn’t particularly enjoy being reminded of that.

“I’ll be legal-“

“Not while I’m a teacher at your school.”

“I could change school. Or you could.”

“John, stop.” Greg tilts John’s head up so that he can look at him properly. “Stop thinking about this. Next year you need to concentrate on your A-levels, and I need to make sure you stay out of trouble.”

John looks mutinous. “You’re treating me like a child.”

Greg bites back the obvious response. “We’ll talk about it in the summer, if that’s what you want – a proper, serious, grown-up talk.”

“Do you promise?” 

“Always.” Greg kisses John’s forehead. “But I’m not going to promise that you’ll like it.”

John snorts. “I like _you_.”

Greg squeezes him tightly in response.

.....

Next October, Greg breaks up a fight at school and gets a knife in the ribs for his trouble. No-one’s surprised when he retires from teaching and moves away.

And, amid all the excitement of the court case, no-one really notices when quiet little John Watson drops out of school.


End file.
